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<title>Of Silver Locks and Lavender Eyes by EiraofTheNorth</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010928">Of Silver Locks and Lavender Eyes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiraofTheNorth/pseuds/EiraofTheNorth'>EiraofTheNorth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:54:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiraofTheNorth/pseuds/EiraofTheNorth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re the Avatar of Lust right? Just lust for me. I don’t need your love, nor do I need you to fall in love with me.”</p><p>Saerus - cold, detached and aloof - lived his life free from relationships and entanglements. Then one Avatar of Lust barged into his life and everything changed all at once.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Silver Locks and Lavender Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My first fic commission! I wrote this for @nekoonell on Twitter starring her OM OC Saerus and Asmo!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saerus remembers. </p><p>He remembers a time, when he and his family were actually happy. Vague the memories were and fuzzy the feelings may be, but they linger there under his skin: warm and colorful, the sounds of tinkling laughter ringing in his ears,  the cool wind blowing across the long strands of his hair and the endlessly blue sky stretching from his fingertips. But alas they were only that: memories, and these memories began to taunt him, mock him, goad him countless times over into believing that love and happiness was worth risking everything for. Worth losing yourself over.</p><p>But they were wrong, they always were. They were merely the fleeting moments of bliss, in a childhood punctured solely by his father’s absence and his mother’s silent misery masked by the stories of love she told them. Stories about how their love crossed heaven and earth itself, how their father gave his angelic powers up for her but at a terrible cost, how they found each other and fell for one another once more. She regaled them with a dreamy look on her face and with an endlessly endearing voice.</p><p>But Saerus could see beyond all that. He could see the way her eyes pinched, the way they hid a deep sadness in their depths. He noticed how her hands clenched when she got to the really romantic parts. And all at once he became disgusted. How could someone risk it all for something as ephemeral as love? For it was nothing but a fantasy, a sheer folly, brought about by impulsive emotions and rash decisions. His father wasn’t even around. His mother was suffering. Thus he vowed from an early age, that he would never ever fall in love, nor would he even consider the idea of it. </p><p>And that’s how Saerus lived his life: cold, detached, aloof, always keeping others at an arm’s length with nothing but a short greeting and a polite smile. He was satisfied with his lifestyle: no fuss no muss, no pointless attachments, no hearts broken. This arrangement suited him just fine. </p><p>Then the memories shift once more, like the fluttering pages of a well-worn book, its contents memorized by heart. </p><p>And he remembers another time. </p><p>He remembers the day when out of the blue, he was dragged down into hell itself. Oh that was wrong, it was the Devildom, if the strikingly beautiful man with piercing crimson eyes who appeared before him was to be believed. He turned towards the raven-haired man with a mix of disinterest and nonchalance reflected in his lavender gaze. He didn’t care where he was, nor did he care that he, a half-angel, was just unceremoniously dumped into the land of demons. What he did care about was that they stayed out of his way and kept to themselves. It was just a year. He can live the way he always did and survive a measly 365 days. But then the endlessly pretty demon with champagne-colored hair came into the picture and all his hopes were dashed the same way the happy memories of his childhood faded into the back of his mind. </p><p>And the memories alter once again, this time filled with him and only with him: his velvety champagne locks, the strands all in perfect place, his deep pools of light scarlet orbs which stared at him with unabashed fondness and admiration. His steps, always light, graceful and cheery, as if he was a dancer in a show all on his own. He found him annoying at first: this ceaselessly cheerful demon, Asmodeus, they called him, who had made it his mission to invade his personal space every chance he got. </p><p>“Saerus! Saerus!” He would call out to him in his endlessly chirpy voice and he would smile tightly in return and greet him a polite “Hello, Asmodeus.” Then Saerus would go on his way and yet Asmo still peppered him with a million and one questions: "Why is his silver-hair so beautiful? How does his lavender eyes sparkle like so? Why is he so gorgeous? Why does he smell so good?" All superficial questions he had heard so many times before. And so he answered them all back in the only way he knew how: short-clipped, with no room for further inquiry. </p><p>This same scenario repeated day after day after day, and although Saerus’s annoyance towards Asmo grew, so did his intrigue towards him. And little by little, he started to notice the small  details about the Avatar of Lust: how he was the most affectionate out of all his brothers, how he doled out his love for each one of them, how he had the strongest bond with Satan, the Avatar of Wrath himself, and how the thought of being so close to a ticking time bomb of infinite anger should’ve scared him, but instead strengthened their relationship even more in a bizarre way.</p><p>Little by little, Saerus began to notice the cracks in his perfect shell: how Asmo, despite being the most conscious about his image, hid the deepest insecurities among all his brothers, how he craved affection, craved love, like a child starved for his favorite food, how he just wanted to be accepted for who he was and not just what he could offer. </p><p>All these glimpses into who Asmo really was painted the true image of him in Saerus’s mind and suddenly he could see, he could finally see <em> him </em> , and that filled him with fear and amazement all at once. Fear at what this new discovery could lead him into, especially since he himself could feel the way his gaze lingers whenever Asmo was in the same room as him. Amazement at having reawakened a part of him he thought he had lost forever, a part that felt empathy and kindness and <em> love </em>.</p><p>Love. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. </p><p>So Saerus hid all these new feelings away deep into the recesses of his seemingly stone-cold heart. He wouldn’t give life to these feelings. He would never allow himself to. He was a broken man and Asmo deserved someone who could make him whole again. </p><p>And thus hide them he did behind his cold, polite facade. He was used to it anyway and he’d be damned if he let himself slip. But the human heart was fickle, even one half a heart like his, and he could feel himself slipping, drowning into the feelings he vowed he’d never pay mind to, each day he lived by Asmo’s side. Then finally the dam burst when he heard one of the lower-class demons at RAD speak badly about Asmodeus. How undeserving he was with his title of a demon lord. How pathetic he looked prancing around.</p><p><em> How dare they? How dare they speak ill about the man I love? </em> He thought as he felt his nostrils flare up, his heart constricting with rage and as he welcomed this newfound feeling with open arms. He was seething with anger <em> for someone else </em> besides himself. It made him feel powerful and strong and with a surge of confidence he strutted over to the insolent demons, got right in their faces and said in a deathly cold voice: “Your whole pathetic life isn’t even worth a single strand of hair on his head. Now scram, before this gets to Diavolo.”</p><p>He emitted such a fiercely domineering chilly aura, while his amethyst eyes seared lasers right into the puny demons’ souls. Filled with fright, the demons ran off, muttering curses among themselves. </p><p>Saerus inhaled deeply and let all the tension out in one breath. He had never been so pissed before and now that the feeling was gone it was surreal and bizarre. He turned on his heel, flicked his long, silver hair and was on his way back home, when he stopped dead in his tracks at the vision before him: champagne-colored hair, light red eyes twinkling with a glint of something else other than their usual flirtiness. </p><p>Asmodeus. He had heard him. He had seen the whole thing. </p><p>And then ice water was being injected into his veins and he couldn't breathe because <em> this man </em> had just <em> seen </em> him bare himself out of pure recklessness and wrath, something he had never done before. Had <em> seen </em> him, had seen <em> through </em>him and had fallen for him in one fell swoop if the love and tenderness in his pools of rose colored irises were to be believed. </p><p>In that instant the images of a bitter, lonely childhood enters his mind once more and just as quickly as he bared himself did he shut himself again, locking the part of him that felt and loved because he <em> couldn’t </em> , <em> wouldn’t </em> risk it all for something as fleeting as love. Never. He would keep it in even if it hurt. Asmo deserved better. </p><p>“Saerus-” Asmo called out to him in an uncharacteristically soft voice as he stepped forward. </p><p>Steeling himself, Saerus put on his signature icy mask and stared right ahead at Asmo with a chill in his gaze. Then in a piercingly mocking voice he uttered. “You’re the Avatar of Lust right? Just lust for me. I don’t need your love, nor do I need you to fall in love with me.” Asmo had sucked in a breath then, pain and shock written across his delicate features and Saerus held back with every fiber of his being from just hugging him and kissing him senseless. </p><p>“Consider what I did just now as thanks for looking out for me all this time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading on home. Do what you want.” With one final cursory, indifferent glance, Saerus turned on his heel, leaving the man he loved most with a broken heart while he nursed his own in agonizing silence. </p><p> </p><p>Saerus remembers. </p><p>He remembers it all: how he’d learned to unlock his own heart, his own happiness and how he’d locked it again all on his own because of his cowardice. And then he wonders, if he’d chosen differently then, would everything be different? Would he be happier? With himself? With his life? If he allowed himself the freedom to love instead of allowing the fear of a broken childhood hold him by the neck? </p><p>He looks around from the spot where he was slumped on the floor at his room: clean, spotless, bare and he laughs bitterly at how that perfectly reflects how he feels inside. </p><p>"I guess this was it then." </p><p>He was used to being alone, used to bottling each and every emotion he felt. That was what made him Saerus. </p><p><em> Idiot.  </em> <em> Stupid. </em> <em> Moron. </em></p><p>His inner voice called out to him over and over again, as it had gotten fed up after years of being silenced, and for once he listened. He listened. And pondered. And he looked back. Looked back to every little detail, each little memory: of everything that made him who he was and everything that he could be. </p><p>And with a newfound courage, a glint resurfaced in his once placid lilac eyes. He stood up, fixed his clothes, combed his hair and took a long, deep breath. Then he squared his shoulders and sauntered out the door with a single goal in mind. For once, he would seize his own future, his own happiness, without fear and hesitation. And it starts with the person with champagne-colored locks and light crimson eyes. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ngl, it was hard to write this in the beginning but it got easier as I reached the middle part and since then I've loved every second I spent writing this. It was a nice way to improve my skills and write someone else other than Eira. Saerus is a really cool character. Nekon really did such a good job in creating him.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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